Bloody Chains for Beautiful Hands
by Tardis Blue Assassin
Summary: Henry bought a new house, cut himself off from family. Nevertheless there is something in the house with him, and its turning his world upside down. What if he has to go back to 302 to save the man he thought he had killed? ON HIATUS, FOR MY CHALLENGE
1. Unreal Reality

**I seriously have to stop watching Game walkthroughs…it's going to be the death of me, or at least my much needed sleep. I am writing two fan fictions as of now and updating will be even between both, wish me luck on my first Game fanfiction; let's hope we can get through this. I do not own Silent Hill 4 – The Room.**

**Bloody Chains for Beautiful Hands –**

_He was stuck in that room, the chains that reached from the ceiling to the floor with no way to getting out, he had thought of jumping from a window but those were sealed shut. He was still in this hell; he was still in his game. He had saved Eileen but it was as if he didn't exist. The peep hole to her room was gone as if it had never been there; no one came to his door to check on him. The bloody hand prints that you could see through the small glass hole in the door were now gone. He was trapped in his own personal hell with no way out._

Henry Townshend had defeated the dark forces that had taken over his apartment almost three days ago. He had woken up in the dingy old apartment like he did many times when he had entered the hole. At first he though he must be dead but as he shifted his weight rolling off the bed onto his feet and stumbled out into the living room he realized that everything was spotless. No ghosts coming through the walls, no blood stains, not even a rust spot in the sink, his whole body quaked as his eyes slowly moved toward the door that had chained his escape. Then his heart dropped, the door was still chained he shifted moving to the door his hand moving along it as his lips pierced together. He looked through the glass orb looking into the hall. A few people passed by and on the opposite wall all the hand prints were gone. Then why was he still here?

Townshend backed up his hands grasping the chains and yanking on them with a desperate cry wondering where Eileen could have gotten too. He had saved her hadn't he? Yes he had defeated that man, that killer, that psychopath, Walter Sullivan at his own game. Henry tried to keep calm as he let go of the black chains and moved back to the living room moving to the peep hole, where was it again? He looked around thinking maybe he had forgotten its exact spot but on closer observation there was no peep hole, nothing, just white washed paint.

He sank to his knees against the wall looking at the ceiling, there was no Joseph Schreiber trying to help him from beyond the grave, there was only him, Henry, the man who had survived hell itself and possibly saved the very fabric of earth. Yet he was still stuck in this godamn room. Why had this happened to him? He had thought as soon as he had destroyed the Cults god that everything would sort of return to normalcy. Well it had, just it hadn't waited up for him. With a sick groan he pulled himself to his feet, there was only one more place to look, and no matter how sick it made him he would have to go see if that still existed.

Henry made his way to the bathroom opening the door very slowly and peeking in. His heart stopped beating for a few moments as every fiber of hope in his body withered away. The hole, that damn hole was there, staring at him like a giant eye. It was back to its original state and even had the lead pipe back where it had originally been. His knees began to shake and his head began to spin as he took a step forward. He had to go back. He had to go back didn't he? There was no way around it. He took a large breath and stumbled toward the hole his hands hitting the stone as he looked into the darkness his eyes dilating to large spheres. And he crawled in, he took the pipe with one hand wishing he didn't feel like this was a nightmare starting all over again, but this is what had happened before, what if Cynthia was there? What if he was just reliving this over and over again?

A warm breeze caressed his face as he climbed out of an earthy hole on the other side. He wasn't in the subway, which startled him at first. No instead he was in a meadow, the sun beating down onto his back. He pulled himself fully out feeling almost like Alice, which bothered him more than the subway had. This wasn't normal in his eyes and for some reason he would have rather had gone face to face with Walter all over again. He stood in the meadow, warm grass waving in the breeze that whipped around him. Above him was a blue sky that was as clear as he had ever seen it.

He jammed the lead pipe in the ground next to him as he tried to see past the meadow but it seem to stretch for miles and miles until it just seem to dip as if it was going straight off a cliff. Where was this place? And why was it so quiet?

Henry shifted thinking maybe he had finally lost his sanity or even worse had really died and now he was in some kind of area that was neither for the saints or the sinners, but for people just like him. He was about to move gripping the pipe to yank it out of the ground when a voice reached him. That very voice sent a shiver quivering throughout his body from his feet to his head. He knew that voice almost better than any other.

"Your here" Was what it said. Henry Townshend turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin when his eyes traveled up to the face of Walter Sullivan, the killer. He wore his trench coat his blonde hair still stringy and hanging down in his face, his emerald eyes still dark and brooding but he wasn't covered in blood and his face didn't read hostility which honestly confused Henry at first.

"H-here?" Henry wasn't sure why he was talking to this man. For all he knew his throat would be slit before he could even ask another question.

"Paradise of course" Walter hands rose as he spun around in a circle looking at the sky. "What else would it be?" His voice was strange, it didn't have the, darkness like it had had before, and instead it sounded like any old Joe Henry might have been friends with.

Townshend gripped the pipe his knuckles turning pale as he watched."Paradise?" Walter stopped spinning standing in front of him once more. He stepped back almost falling as Walter raised his hand to his face using his pointing and index finger to draw an imaginary line from his forehead down to his nose and off the side to his left cheek. "Don't touch me!" Henry snapped stepping back and yanking the pipe from the ground wielding it in a defensive grip.

"But in Paradise we should be friends Henry Townshend." Walter replied tilting his head to the side frowning slightly. Henry was still confused, why was this man not killing him? Or worse yet making him go through hell all over again? Or was this his new version of hell?

"Whereas Eileen?" Henry sputtered.

"She's here; I can take you to her." Walter turned his coat flowing behind him. Henry was reluctant to follow even though Walter had just basically told him Eileen was alive. He held the pipe taking a few steps forward watching the swaying walk of the man who he had killed a few days ago.

"If this is Paradise…does that mean you killed me?" Henry asked quietly as he stayed quite a distance from the man's gaping footsteps. He had remembered watching Walter die, and him and Eileen had made it out, so then why?

"I didn't kill you." Walter replied very generally. Now Henry was truly lost. What did Walter mean? This couldn't be Paradise, this was just another vision. Some sick twisted vision

"Why aren't you trying to kill me? Why aren't there any monsters? Why….why is this place here?" Henry hated talking to this man, but he was the only one here, and he wasn't being hostile at the moment and to be honest Henry didn't think he could out run the man or even get to Eileen without his help. He nearly ran into the man's back when he stopped and he reeled back as he turned on one foot looking down on him with his dark green eyes.

"I have no reason to kill you. What monsters are you talking about and as I said before this is Paradise."

The very calmness of his voice was creepier then the man. Henry stood there shaking as he stared straight into the man's eyes. His voice echoing in his head,_ I have no reason to kill you. _

"But the 21 sacraments….didn't you have to kill me and Eileen to complete them?" Henry hated arguing over his own life, but if he had understood right in order for Paradise or whatever hell they had thought they were creating was real then shouldn't he be dead?

"There was no reason to complete them, I discovered my own way to Paradise, mother told me how." Henry dropped the pipe then the shock clearly displayed on his face. There was no way this was real, if this was real then that meant he hadn't killed Walter, and the war to save earth wasn't over. This wasn't Walter, this was some fabrication of him, maybe how he would have been if it wasn't for his psychotic mind and abuse as a child.

'You're not real." Henry mumbled to himself as he stepped back. Walter turned fully around looking at him his eyes shifting."I know you're not, this is exactly how I imagined my death would be, without you of course." Henry took another step back as a sick grin up turned on Walter Sullivan's face."Get out of my head!" Henry screeched as he sank to the ground holding his ears as he shook his head back and forth.

"You didn't save here Henry Townshend, You are the Receiver and you will die." Walter voice still penetrated his mind as he felt everything around him fall away.

Henry jerked awake nearly falling out of his bed. He groaned as half his body lay on the floor the other resting on the edge of the bed. He knew where he was. He could just feel it as his eyes opened into his new house's bedroom. It was clean for the most part he had only moved into it a couple weeks ago. He pulled himself off the floor as he slunk into the bathroom rubbing his eyes. He was beginning to have a hard time telling real from the unreal. His dreams became his reality and his reality became his dreams. That had been the fifth dream that had ruined his night of sleep. He had killed Walter and yet the man still haunted him. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw the dark circles under his eyes. What was he suppose to do? Sleeping pills didn't work. There was no way he was going to a therapist. And he felt if he killed himself he would go somewhere that he did not want to go. He sighed to himself and went to turn on the shower. He waited till the water was just hot enough for him to step in without it scalding his body. He took off his clothes slinking in as he rested his forehead on the dark green tile as the water fell across his thin frame. His head rolled as the sound of just water slapping onto ceramic entered his ears. He had secluded himself from family, and others he knew. Eileen, Richard, all of them was dead and gone and he was the only survivor and no one would ever know.

Henry closed his eyes his fingers drumming on the tile in a rhythmic pattern. This is how it always started, everyday sense he had left room 302. He would awaken from a dream that would either be as hellish as what he had experienced or something that almost reached heaven. Then he would get a shower and usually fall asleep or maybe he didn't he couldn't tell but something always happened and even though he wasn't sure who, he had a sickening idea who was doing It to him.

The first time it had happened he had screamed and fallen back hitting his head and passing out in the shower for a few hours only to wake up with cold water pelting his body. The next time he took a bath and weird things happened like the whole house would shake or maybe the water wouldn't run so he had to go back to showering trying to ignore the abnormal occurrences. But it kept happening, sometimes it wouldn't but it happened a lot. And you're probably wondering by now what Henry was experiencing. It was simple.

Townshend's breath caught and his fingers stopped drumming as he felt that sickening feeling come over him as a hand smoothed over his unmoving hand smoothing over his fingers. Then he felt the other hand go over his quivering stomach as he was pulled back into someone's warm clutches. He had experienced this three times already and every time he felt it grow stronger and when he pulled away the presence would vanish and he be left in a empty shower with cold water as if he had been in there for hours. He breathed out as he leaned his head back his hair grazing someone's shoulder as he bit his lip. He knew who it was, there was no mistaking it. The fear had long passed, it seemed strange that he didn't feel the fear; it wasn't feat that made his mind turn cold. Instead it was dread, dread that this would become truly real, that he hadn't killed the man that he had done everything for nothing and he would be stuck with this demon for the rest of his miserable life. The hand on his stomach moved up to his chest the arm coming around him almost protectively or maybe possessively was the right word. His eyes shut willing the phantom to go away but the hand now gripping his only tightened and he let out a agonized sigh.

"_Why don't you except me?"_

Henry's eyes snapped opened as he turned to move but he fell against the tile and found again, like always he was alone. He was alone, of course he was. That was the first time he had heard a voice, and not anyone's voice, it had been the man he was supposed to have killed. It had been warm and inviting. He was really losing it. He stepped out of the shower going to his room and grabbing out clothes. This had never happened while he was awake before, he had never heard voice while he was awake. This scared him as he went to his kitchen pulling out a jug of milk. He couldn't believe this. Did this mean that man, Walter, he shivered as his name entered his mind, was still alive. He sighed drinking a glass closing his eyes trying to pretend he had imagined it. He placed the glass in the sink with the rest of the quickly piling dishes. He needed to do them. He figured it take his mind off it. As the sink filled up Henry traced the metallic insides of the dish rack wondering if he should just end it all. He didn't have anyone to miss him; he didn't have a life except one of solitude. He shook his head and plunged his hands into the soapy warm water beginning a meager task. It was the only thing he could think of at the moment.

He was half way done and beginning on another plate as he felt something. The plate shattered in his grip as he felt arms snake their around his waist. He let himself let the broken pieces float into the water as his hands just dangled in the sink his breathing shaking his chest.

"_Things aren't the same anymore." _ Henry could feel the warm breath on his ear. He could smell the faint lingering of peppermint and tea. This was to real, this was to familiar. He didn't like it.

"Leave me alone." Henry felt like was talking to himself but he didn't know what else he was suppose to do, the phantom that man would just keep coming back if he didn't try something.

"_But I love you Henry Townshend" _ Warm lips grazed the back of his neck and then suddenly the arms, the scent everything vanished and Henry blinked as he pulled his hands and arms out of a pool of cold sink water, the soap had all evaporated and now his fingers had turned all wrinkly. He looked at them and sighed lightly to himself shifting and moving out of the kitchen living the sink a quarter full of soaked dishes. He just couldn't handle this. He just didn't understand why. Why was he being haunted like this?

Henry sank onto his couch running his fingers through his brown hair. It was true; he had finally lost touch with all reality. He was now chained to the world that had nearly cost him his life and had killed so many others. And his only comfort, his only human feeling was the very thing that had come to haunt him. He had to go back to the room. Apartment 302. He had to find the key to his chains.


	2. Two Sides of the Same Coin

**Wow I already have favorites for this fanfic, I am happy, but where are the REVIEWS! **

_Henry sank onto his couch running his fingers through his brown hair. It was true; he had finally lost touch with all reality. He was now chained to the world that had nearly cost him his life and had killed so many others. And his only comfort, his only human feeling was the very thing that had come to haunt him. He had to go back to the room. Apartment 302. He had to find the key to his chains._

_No! He would not go back! What was he thinking? Walter was dead! He had seen him die! He had seen Eileen die! IT was over done, finished!_

Henry wrenched himself off the couch pacing around the room. He was going insane! Absolutely insane! IF he thought he was going back to that room he had to be insane! What could he possibly be thinking? He angrily kicked at his coffee table as he moved to the balcony opening the door and looking out over the expanse of trees and wildlife; He breathed in the cool scent of pine closing his eyes as he tried to clear his head. The smell was wonderful he loved the smell of trees, the smell of life and how it should be. He took in another breathe and his nose wrinkled, the pine smell was now being over powered by something else, he breathed out opening his eyes. The smell was coming from somewhere down below. He looked down trying to see what it was. It smelled good, in a way, earthy and fresh, but it wasn't what he use was to.

Townshend moved from the balcony throwing on a jacket and going outside to look around. There wasn't anything there except earth, trees, worms and all the usual things he came upon when he went outside. He sighed but the smell still infiltrated his nose and he followed it until he was brought to the edge of his property. He looked around and figured maybe he was just imaging the smell but then his eyes spotted a form laying on the ground. His feet were already moving as he ran over kneeling down.

"Are you okay?'" He shook the person who was now clearly a man lying on his side dressed in dingy old kakis and a red flannel shirt. He turned him over carefully and nearly flinched backward his face crunching up into shock. The blonde hair and the strong face, there was no denying it. The unconscious man lying on the ground inches away from Henry was none other than Walter Sullivan. Henry scrambled backward on his hands and feet.

How was this possible? Shouldn't he be dead? He had to be dreaming again, he had to have fallen asleep on the couch. How was he supposed to wake himself then? His mind and body froze as the man groaned his whole body shifting as he sat up slowly. Their eyes met and strangely the surprise on Walter's face almost matched Henrys as the just stared at each other in silence.

"Receiver?" Walter said rather confused looking around seemingly lost."What…where am i?"

A sense of déjà vu welled up in Henry as it seemed him and Walter had switched roles and now Walter had become Alice and Henry had become the Cheshire. What was Henry even suppose to say to this man? This wasn't normal, why could he just wake up?

"O-o-outside my house." Henry finally answered scrambling back a few more feet as Walter moved to stand. The blonde looked at him with those emerald eyes again and seem to be trying to sum up the situation.

"Whereas mother?" Walter asked stepping closer only to have Henry move further back.

"She's not here, this is my new home." Henry couldn't believe he was even talking to this man. This is how his dreams always were though, it begin with either him running through one of the hellish scenes of Walters memory or some familiar place with Walter acting like he was a normal human being with actual feelings. It was if there was two of them and Henry wasn't sure which one was the real Walter anymore.

"But she's always with me…why did she leave me" Walter continued to push taking a few more steps toward Henry who had now stopped moving and just stared up at the killer shaking his head.

"I don't know." Henry replied and his breath caught as Walter moved now standing directly over him and leaning down offering his hand. He wasn't sure if he wanted to take it, not that his dreams ever harmed him, but still the idea of even touching this, thing, was enough to set Henry's sanity to the edge. However he found himself reaching up and taking the hand, to his surprise it was warm and almost welcoming, like the arms that always found him when he was doing something or when he was in the shower. It was so warm; it almost made him forget that he was in the presence of a mad man. He blinked as he stood and the warmth disappeared, he was alone, he didn't realize until the warm hand grasping his had disappeared, that he was now standing in the forest alone. He shivered and looked around trying to find evidence that Walter had just been standing there, but there was none. He turned heading back to his house shaking his head. What was going on?

He entered to find everything like he had left it except one very small aspect that sent a shiver up his spine. In the kitchen all the dishes had been washed and now sat dried and spotless in the dish rack. Henry bit his lip as he moved into the small space running a finger over a plate. He hadn't finished these dishes, he knew that he hadn't finished them; he had left the sink half full. That was it, he knew something was going on, there was no ignoring it anymore, he was being watched, someone was here, or something. He had a good idea of WHAT that was. He turned pivoting on a foot tossing his jacket off leaving it on the couch as he headed into the bathroom scanning every inch of it. He didn't find anything unusual just some soap scum and the wet tile from his morning shower. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for.

Henry just knew he was looking for something, that's all he actually had in mind as he headed back to the living room. He stopped mid step staring at the couch. Where was his jacket? He had just taken it off. Henry eyes shifted toward the closet. It was slightly ajar and he could see even from where he stood that his jacket hung neatly from a hanger. Henry's whole body began to shake as he made a desperate scramble to his room slamming the door shut as he back up. He was losing it, he was actually losing it! He thought he had somewhat gotten over this but now it was quite obvious this wasn't true. He sank down on the bed shaking his head back and forth. Why! Why! Was this happening? Why couldn't he just return to a normal life?

That was an easy question, because he had went to hell and back how was his life suppose to return to normal. He sighed rubbing his face in his hands as he tried to think about this rationally. He didn't want to return to that place, where everything had began, where his whole life had been turned upside down, but the longer he stayed here the more he began to lose touch with reality. He had no choice did he? He had to go back. He would have to pack his car, pull out money from his bank account, make excuses, but in the end he would have to go back to room 302. He sighed his hands dropping from his face. He would go back no matter how much he didn't want to he had come to a decision, he would go back in a few days, if he could make it that long.

As if the specter could hear his thoughts he could feel something enter the room. He closed his eyes bowing his head. What if he could settle this without having to go back? Was that even a possible? He had to ways of getting rid of this, thing. Either he fought it on his home turf or went to its. Henry wasn't to excited with the idea of even stepping one foot into that room or even that town for all that it was worth. So he would first try to fight the thing at home. He would try to get rid of It on his own without having to go back to the place that haunted every inch of his mind and body. The presence remained as he came to this decision. This was plan A, plan B, well he hoped he wouldn't have to go with plan B. He knew he was just stalling his fate but he'd do anything to just stay right where he was.

He shifted his eyes still closed as he felt whatever was in the room get closer. He felt a warm hand raise his head with his chin. He wanted to pull back but his lips pierced together instead as he tried to imagine what now standing in front of him was, he had a good idea but he could never be sure, it could be his own mind playing tricks on him.

"_You're not afraid are you?" _The voice confirmed Henry's aching fear he felt himself nod slowly not sure that he could speak even if he had wanted to. _"I won't hurt you." _He wanted to believe the baritone voice, the voice of the man he was supposed to have watched die, the man he had felt pity for even though he had ripped away so many people's lives including one of his only friends. Henry lifted his head off the hand willingly his eyes to open but he didn't know if the man would disappear if he did, and not that that would bother him but he knew he would just come back again. _"Do you trust me?" _ Henry wanted to say no, but his mind for some reason said yes, the man , the phantom, whatever it was still hadn't caused him any harm when it obviously could have at any time So without much though Henry nodded his head yes. His mind wasn't sure what to aspect but his whole body seem to give a giant sign of shock as he felt full warm lips press against his own. His eyes sprang open and like always he was alone, again. He let out a agonized groan falling back on the bed staring at the ceiling.

He had been kissed, he knew it was real, and there was no way that had been a vision or some kind of illusion. That man, he had to stop calling him that, he had a name. _Walter_ had kissed him. Why? His mind went back to what he had said when he had kissed him on the neck, he loved him? Shouldn't he hate him or something rational like that? Henry placed his arm over his eyes sighing. Why did this have to happen to him? How was he supposed to fight something that always disappeared when he tried to see him?

Henry sat up breathing out slowly. He was going to have to do this rationally. There were a couple things he knew already. It was defiantly Walter, the man was in the house or at least a part of him was, he could touch him, smell him, and even _taste him. _And unless Henry's senses were even lying to him that had to mean this was all real. Which meant that some of this was reality and some of it wasn't what he had to do was tell which was which. He knew the man who had been in the forest wasn't real, it was obvious that the real Walter didn't want Henry to see him. Then what was it that he was seeing. This didn't make any rational sense, then again when did anything in Henry's life ever made sense. Henry moved out of the bed room and into the living room. Well he supposed there was only one way to figure some of this out. He went over to the closet taking out his jacket and lying it on the couch again. He went into the hall and peeked out. Nothing happened of course, two minutes went by, then five and the finally after ten Henry gave up and just shook his head, it was getting late and he needed some sleep. He removed his gaze from the couch and headed for the bedroom when he heard a door shut and he spun around seeing the jacket had moved and the closet door was shut. He sighed his head hanging as he shook it. Walter was messing with him, and probably laughing at him. He was playing hide and seek with a dead man!

Townshend sighed and just gave up going to bed not even bothering to close the door. He collapsed into the sheets closing his eyes knowing his mind wouldn't go without having some kind of dream. Maybe he could do something to fix all this. He wanted to avoid going back at all costs. He really did.

_For the first time in a couple nights Henry slept without even a murmur of a voice in his head. Not even one dream or visions invaded the darkness of his sleep and he breathed steadily as the sun began to rise over the house and light streamed into the windows._

He moved onto his back still asleep as he laid stretched out on the bed his legs and arms going everywhere. Pressure caused a dip to the side but Henry didn't notice it as a weight fell onto his body. Something came close to his ear and a soft voice stirred his sleep. _"Wake up Henry." _He was beginning to wake up but kept his eyes closed as he could feel the pressure on his legs and waist. Someone was sitting on him very cautiously their body leaning over him and their lips pressed to his ear trying their best to wake him.

"Don't disappear" Henry murmured out loud as the lips pulled away from his ears. The presence was still there but he wasn't sure if he wanted to risk opening his eyes and loosing the connection he felt. But finally he knew he would have to. His eyes opened very slowly and staring down at him were those green eyes blond hair caressing his face. His lips spread into a smile before he could stop himself. His eyes scanned the man resting on top of him and discovered his upper half was bare and muscles rippled under the pale scarred skin. He had this desire to reach out and touch him but he knew that would be pushing it. His eyes faded back up to Walters face.

"You're not afraid?" Walters voice sounded so relieved it almost made Henry feel like had had been pushing him away all this time.

"Yes but..not of you." Henry replied he really wasn't anymore, for being tormented and being locked in apartment for god knows how long, he wasn't afraid of this man. Because Henry was convinced there was two sides to Walter, the one who was now straddling his waist and the one who had killed all those people, two extremes of the same person. Henry's hand moved up Walter's arm making a trail to his face. He was real, he could feel Walters body freeze as he touched him. As Henry leaned up to get closer Walter didn't know what to do and like he always did he disappeared.

Henry was left alone then his hand dropping back to his side. He had touched him, and had seen him. So that meant he was real didn't it? That meant he wasn't imagining this? The thought of dreaming all this up scared Townshend, for some reason he didn't think he could handle finding out all this was fake and he would wake up back in 302 and have to fight and kill Walter all over again. Despite the fear of the unknown Henry knew there was a connection between him and Walter, one that he still couldn't see and that's why Walters spirit, or the real Walter, whatever it was still with him. He closed his eyes breathing out as he got out of bed. This was to much for him. What was he doing, he was doing what Walter wanted wasn't he? Believing he was there, touching him, wanting to kiss him. It was as if they had never had conflict from before. Henry growled nearly punching the bathroom wall. What was the meaning of all this!

The shower water turned on and Henry's eyes shifted blinking at the sudden sound. He hadn't turned it on, and the only other person who could have….

He let out a sigh and carefully took off his shirt and other clothes stepping in. He leaned his head against the tile and closed his eyes. He breathed out as his hands moved resting on the tile as well. He waited for the feeling of someone else knowing it would come soon knowing that he wouldn't be alone for long. He felt tormented that he was actually excited waiting for the man to reappear and touch him. He felt sick thinking he could possibly feel something for this mad man. What was wrong with him? What was he doing?

**Sooooo what shall happen next? Review and tell me! :D**


	3. Receiver

**So I am dedicating this third chapter to With() because whoever they are they are amazing and they're review almost made me jump up and down for joy! Thanks With()**

_After a few moments Henry opened his eyes wondering what was wrong. He usually stepped in and after a few beats he'd feel the arms, the embrace, and now without it something felt seriously wrong._

Townshend sank down sitting in the shower water pouring over his head. He didn't get it, why all the sudden wasn't the specter, or whatever it was, here with him. He knew it wasn't a dream, it couldn't be, and he didn't want it to be. He laid his head back closing his eyes as whatever fell over his face. He knew he'd fall asleep but at this point he didn't care.

Henry's eyes opened to a scene that he wasn't use to, he was in the middle of a road and suddenly he began moving like he was in a car and every scene was whizzing past too fast for him to see. He didn't know what was going on or what he was seeing but suddenly he stopped and he was in front of a door. He looked up and his heart stopped, the door read 302. A sound came from the other side that sounded like a agonized groan. Henry didn't want to open the door, he really didn't but, there was something behind there. His hand reached out and the door knob turned on his own and the door disappeared leaving a long dark hall splayed out in front of him. Somehow he stepped into this place and the scene opened up and he nearly collapsed to his knees.

Everyone who had been killed, bruised, taken away from him now hang from chains on either side of the room. He ran to Eileen trying to shake her bloodied form but he got no response. He turned around frantically going to Richard, no matter how much he disliked the man, and tried to get some kind of vital signs. He didn't know what to do; they were just hanging there by their wrists dangling a few feet off the floor blood pouring from every pore and pooling onto the floor. He shook his head, why couldn't he just wake up. Then came sound that had drawn him in, he turned and his mouth gaped slightly open. Chained to the door, chains crisscrossing his half bare body his head hanging to the side with his hair draped in his face were Walter. Henry made a few weak steps forward but ended up tripping the rest of the way. When he tripped he saw Walter's head raise his eyes were full of agony as he looked at him. Henry moved closer his hand moving up to the chain touching it slowly, it was grimy and rusty covered in most likely Walters's blood.

'Help me Henry." Walter groaned moving his wrists but only succeeding in drawing more blood. Henry shook his head backing up feeling tears spring to his eyes, he was so shocked by this acting his hands flew to his face wondering why he was crying. "Please…" The pitiful plea reached somewhere down where Henry had though he had buried all his feelings, but it wrenched back up into his throat as he let out a sob.

Townshend sprung awake hitting the back of his head on the tile. Cold shower water dribbled down his body as the shower must have turned off a few minutes ago. He looked up at it as the nozzle dripped water every couple of seconds.

What was wrong with him? Why was he having a dream like that? Henry moved to raise his hands to his face but stopped seeing red goo oozing all over them. He screamed shaking his hands in the water as he scrambled out of the shower. His hands still stained, with, he couldn't believe it, it was blood, and he knew it wasn't his, he wasn't bleeding anywhere and the water wasn't stained. Was he really dreaming?

An hour past and Henry sat on his couch trying to thin through things rationally again, which only seemed to get him in trouble. He came to some conclusions, rather reluctantly of course. One he had some kind of feelings for a serial killer, two that serial killer was Walter, who had killed Eileen and a lot of other people, three, his mother, devil, god, whatever the hell it was had to be messing with his mind. He knew it wasn't Walter, because according to his dream Walter wasn't really "here". So what did that mean? God Henry already knew what that meant, Walter was in trouble, probably dying, and he had to go save him. Why, because he felt pity for the man, and that pity had turned into more. Henry Townshend would have to go back to 302, no plan A, damn plan A failed as soon as he had tried. He sighed holding his forehead, he would go back, he had to pack, grab out old weapons he had in his paranoia taken with him and go back to apartment 302. As he stood to prepare something like an earthquake shook his house and a hairline crack traveled its way from his feet into and under the door to his bedroom. _Don't follow the crack Henry; bad things happen when you follow the cracks._ Henry of course followed the crack, what else was he suppose to do. He opened the door peeking in, and he smirked, of all the emotions he could muster, he smirked. His bed was now gone and on the adjacent wall was a hole. In that hole was a steel pipe, a warm gust of air bellowed around the room and into his face.

"Whether you're real or not you know how to get a point across." Henry said out loud thinking whatever was tormenting him could hear him. He sighed walking toward the hole, peering in. He wasn't very comfortable with this. Why couldn't he just, well, drive there? He placed a hand in grabbing the pipe and dragging it out, he cringed seeing it was smothered in dried blood. It was the same godamn pipe. "Could you just explain to me why?" Henry felt like a madman talking to thin air but at this point it seemed to be working, or well talking in his mind because apparently the thing was telepathic. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the arms returned around his waist and the warm breath followed across his face causing him to lean his head back into the strong shoulder."Oh…that's why." He mumbled as the feeling disappeared behind him causing him to sigh. "How do you know I love him? How do you know I am just not completely an utterly paranoid?" Henry's eyes caught sight of the other wall and letters began to scrawl across the paint as it stripped.

_Because I didn't cause all those visions, you did_

Townshend had a very strong feeling to say shut up and run out of the room like an embarrassed school girl. His face was flushed though as he looked at his feet for a few moments."Like which ones? Mine could have been the scary ones." He heard more scratching and looked up and his eyes narrowed annoyed.

_I did the scary ones, I was testing you, I didn't cause Walter to straddle your waist and kiss you._

"Well thanks." He mumbled rolling his eyes as he looked at the hole. He had to be insane, crazy, mad, Looney, fucking completely out of his mind. Somehow though he stepped into the hole and crawled in, not sure what to expect when he reached the other side

When Henry finally tumbled out of the hole he landed on concrete, and the sound of grinding tracks met his ears. OH he knew where he was. He stumbled to his feet seeing the expanse of the subway world. "Is this the best you can do" He said softly wondering why it had to have dropped him here. Then again the water prison wasn't really that welcoming. Okay scratch that Henry liked this world more than the others. He sighed walking around expecting to see Cynthia, or at least her creepy ghost, or maybe those tongue dogs or something. However something much more surprising met him around the corner. It was Walter; well maybe he should have been expecting that. This Walter wasn't as welcoming as the one in his bed or the shower though. He was drenched in blood and was holding a bloody axe held ready to cut Henry's head clean off. Henry took a weary step back but Walter matched his step. So what was he suppose to do? He wasn't sure at this point he could kill Walter, real or not.

"I will finish the sacraments." Walter mumbled raising the axe. He was going to throw the damn thing.

"Walter wait!" Henry wasn't sure where that had come from but he figured he'd say whatever tumbled out of his usually quiet mouth. The man did stop the axe raised over his head tilting his head to the side obviously confused. _He's chained in 302 this isn't the real him, this isn't him._ The thought kept running through his head over and over as he tried to reason with his one way ticket to death."You don't want to kill me." Henry stuttered.

"And why is that Receiver?" Walter asked lowering the axe slightly using it as a cane now.

"B-be-because-_I love you, or something or, um your better than that? _– Damn what was he suppose to say? He couldn't just blurt out to the man how he felt. It would be awkward; he didn't even know if the man even remotely knew what love was. "Be…you..This isn't really you." Henry finally managed to blurt out as he looked up his eyes burning. "the real you is..in..er..302..and..in my head." Henry thought he sounded more insane then Walter right now, what exactly was he saying anyway?

"In your head?" This Walter, or this, fabrication of Walter seemed intrigued and his offensive stances seem to slacken. "What are you going on about Receiver?"

"I er…can't seem…to uh..stop thinking about you." Henry said using his hands a as he let the pipe drop. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason he knew the pipe wouldn't help him, he couldn't hurt Walter anyway.

"I have been haunting your mind then?" Walter hand gripped the axe again and Henry backed up.

"No not like…you would think you would be…its…more…er..personal actually." He kept stuttering trying to figure out what he was supposed to say. He heard a grunted laugh and looked up in shock seeing Walter laughing. He was actually laughing. Henry blinked as the scene disappeared and he was suddenly thrown back and hit his bedroom door. He rubbed the back of his head as he looked up. The hole had now shifted and was more defined and somewhat looking more like a hole. He groaned in annoyance and just sat there degraded. What the hell was that?

_You just took the first level; I am surprised I was pretty sure he was going to lob your head off. _

Henry stared at the writing and was tempted to stab it hoping to hit his mark. "how many level are there?" He asked not really sure if he wanted to know.

_Four more and they get worse the closer you get ._

"And you're not going to help me at all are you?"

_No_

"Are you really his mother? What are you?"

_A friend, I am afraid his mother doesn't exist. You should know that better than anybody._

Henry pulled himself off the floor as the writing switched to another wall seeing that it had run out of room. "So…are you a ghost."

_You could say that._

"You're beginning to annoy me." Henry announced poking the wall. He didn't like this at all.

_Well what if I give you some encouragement? _

"What kind of encouragement?" Henry regretted asking as soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth. He felt it, oh and he wanted to tear the wall down as the arms now instead of wrapping around his waist wrapped up around his chest the large strong hands gripping his shoulders as it pulled him back. He felt warm lips clash with his heated neck and he flushed looking to the side."I hate you."

_I am aware that you don't accept your feelings_

"What feelings?" Henry stuttered trying to force his face into not flushing. The hands slipped down to his waist as he was spun around too look up into deep emerald eyes."I still don't know what you're going on about." Henry was still in denial. He wasn't sure if he could say it out loud anyway, he wasn't one to speak his emotions. His face was tilted to the side as his lips were drawn closer."Okay okay okay!" Henry stumbled back pushing away as the manifestation disappeared.

_Are you ready for the next level?_

"I am only doing one more today, I don't know if I can take axe manic for much more."

_I am not sure if it's going to be an ax manic this time, each level is different._

"Well that's comforting. " Henry sighed and saw a handgun appear at the entrance of the hole. This wasn't something he was looking forward to."Are you ever going to tell me who you are?" Henry asked as he stepped up to the hole, taking the gun and loading the shells into it.

_Maybe_

"Thanks that's defiantly reassuring." He stepped into the hole taking a big breath. He didn't know what to expect but it couldn't be any worse then what he had already been through. He crawled into the hole and managed to step out on the other side without falling. He shivered as a cold gust ripped through his skin and clothes. He was in the prison world. He hated this world. It reminded him how much he actually pitied Walter and how hard it was to truly hate the man. He sighed making his way through the corridors his gun train on the shadows. When he made it to Walters's cell he stopped looking in. then gun nearly fell from his hands as the scenes from the apartment seem to play out in front of him. Walter hung from a set of chains blood streaming from around his neck and his forehead.

"Walter?" Henry carefully stepped in his gun aimed up at the man who seemed to be dead, but there was no way to be sure. As the head moved and the blond hair fell In his face his piercing eyes trained on Henry's.

"Will you kill me?" Walter groaned obviously in pain. Henry blinked his gun lowering, he had been accepting some snide remark, or at least for Walter to call him receiver or something. But the man was weak; he couldn't fight back even if he had wanted to.

"I-I'll get you down." Henry said softly and stepped closer, he was looking around frantically for a key, or a latch of some kind. As he grabbed onto one of the chains with his free hand he wondered if this was another test, whether or not he would _save_ Walter. What if this test was to kill him?

"No…just kill me Henry, you have the weapon." Walter continued coughing the chains digging into his neck leaving a very visible scar. Henry stopped his hand on the chain the other tightening around the gun. He couldn't kill Walter; he knew that, that was absolutely out of the question. He had though he had done it once already. But now with, his…feelings, and being so confused this wasn't even close to being an option.

"I won't kill you Walter." Henry knelt down studying the large hooks that kept the chains in place. Maybe if he shot them they'd free the man, but what if they ricocheted? He heard a grunt and he looked up to see Walter staring at him with pained questioning eyes."I can't." Henry shook his head and looked back at the hook taping it with his gun. It was worth a try. He stepped back a few feet train the gun at the hook and squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit the mark but it seems to bounce of cause the cell to echo and amplify the sound. _Shit_. "Well that didn't work." Henry sighed and placed the gun on the desk and grasped the hook with both hands trying to wiggle it loose.

"Why are you doing this?" Walter asked quietly.

"I killed you once." Henry paused stopping his movements and using a foot he stepped onto the hook and go closer to the man's face."I am not doing it again." They looked at each other but then Walter's head dropped as he shook his head back and forth.

"I killed all those people and even the one you loved and yet…you're helping me?" It was true Walter had done all those things. Eileen didn't deserve to die, especially like the way she had. Somehow though Henry couldn't imagine listening to Walter's last agonizing breaths, he thought that would be the moment that would truly kill him.

"I loved Eileen like a little sister." Henry replied stepping off the hook and walking around the man trying to find some other means of getting him down.

"But…"

"I didn't lover her like that…there's someone else." Henry interrupted as he found a nearly broken link in the chain, excitedly he moved back to the desk taking up the gun ready to blast the link away.

"Who?" Henry wasn't sure why Walter was so curious, well it should be obvious really. Well actually what kind of screwed up person falls in love with a serial killer, not that he was ready to admit it was love even though the signs were blaringly obvious.

Townshend didn't answer as he aimed the gun at the chain and pulled the trigger. The link broke and Walter was sent to the ground but Henry caught him before he landed in a painful position. The chains fell away and Walter and Henry's form sunk to the ground as Henry held him. Henry moved Walter gently as the man looked up at him his eyes half lidded.

"Thank you receiver" Walter voice was getting quieter and Henry knew what was coming.

"Don't die okay? I am going to get you back and you'll be okay."

"You've done enough." Walter's hand moved weakly to his jacket and pulled out a dingy picture of Eileen."You can have this." He cough his whole body shaking from the effort. Henry could feel tears spring to his eyes in reaction to the picture. This was to much. Why was this happening to him, why was he being forced to relive things that he would rather forget about. He could feel the scene melting away and soon he was back in his bed room tears pouring down his face as his whole body fell into the fetal position as he just laid there. He could feel more emotions the just his own circulating his body, he could feel Walters, Eileen's; it was all too much as he sobbed and sobbed until he began to choke on his own pitiful cries. How was he suppose to face the other three levels like this?


	4. One More

**With ad Black-Rogue-Fairy THANK YOU for your review your very well just awesome cause you make it so I know if I am going in the right Direction or not, I think you might be surprised this CHAPTER :D**

_Henry had fallen asleep on the floor after his chest finally heaved the last few sobs from his system. He was being shaken by something and his eyes opened to see two little feet then two little legs obstructing his vision of the hole. _

He blinked a few times as the feet back peddled and a little boy face came into view as the boy tilted his body looking at the sleeping man. Henry groaned as he sat up onto his legs trying to get the gist of where he was.

"Mister.." The boy poked him in the shoulder and Henry finally focused on his face.

"Little Walter?" Henry mumbled rubbing his eyes hardly believing what he was looking at. The kid looked like he always did, dressed in a striped shirt and grimy grey pants and little white shoes. His giant green eyes and bowl cut blonde hair making him look like the little kid who always would stare into a pet shop window looking at the puppy who had barked at him.

"Where's mom?" The boy asked persisting on poking Henry. Henry sat on his butt carefully pushing the boys hand away.

"How'd you get in here?" Henry asked looking around. Through the hole maybe? That made sense, but that had never happened before. Little Walter paced around him looking around the place."Hey aren't you going to answer me? The boy turned facing him again giving him one of those creepy blank stares as his gaze shifted to the hole and he pointed. _Well I guess that answers that question._ "Um….well your moms not here, she is…" Henry wasn't sure how to answer that. He rubbed his arms as the kid squatted tracing the cracks in the floor with his finger.

"Y-you lived in that a-partment right?" Walter asked not really caring to share fully eye contact. Henry felt himself nod and then realized the kid wouldn't see him nod.

"Err yea…" Henry mumbled feeling heavily weirded out. The kid's head rose again and he smiled.

"Then you're my mom?"

That smile could have made Silent Hill even appear friendly. It was creepy and somewhat diluted. Henry felt himself scoot back as the kid straightened.

"Um…er…no..I" Henry was stumbling over his words no sure what he was suppose to say. He wasn't the kids mom, obviously, but he wasn't sure how he was suppose to break it to the kid. He looked toward the hole and the kid; he could run, defiantly sounded like a good idea. The kid took a step forward and Henry felt his head start feeling like someone was dragging their nails across his brain. Henry held his forehead and scoot back scrambling to his feet as the kid moved faster his feet floating off the floor.

"Moooommmmmm…." Little Walter wailed causing the hair on the back of Henry's neck to stand up. Henry didn't eve hesitate then he dove for the hole diving in. The whole world turned pitch black as he went through.

Henry lifted his head as he woke up on the grimy street of the Building World. He groaned trying to figure out what had just happened. He had not seen that coming. He sighed as he out stretched his arm as he began to pull himself up. His hand touched something sloppy and his head moved as he saw what it was. It was the long tongue of one of those dogs. Henry jumped back as he saw the dogs eyeless head jerk up as it got onto his feet. _Damn._ Henry got to his feet as he looked around for anything to use as a weapon, he saw nothing but gates, streets, and the sides of concrete city buildings. Was he really going to die here? He back up as the dog sauntered forward dragging his straw like tongue with it.

"Nice…doggy." Henry mumbled taking another step back. His back hit a wall and he thought he was done when he fell through the wall and tumbled into the pet shop. He had gone straight through the wall and now crashed onto his back onto a cage."Ow…." He moaned rolling off and onto his feet. He looked around and saw somehow, he was alone. How had that happened? He turned looking at the wall. He touched it shyly and discovered it was solid. _My mind is playing tricks on me, and not the kind I am use to. _Henry backed up turning around. So now what? There wasn't anything here except bloody empty cages and well, nothing he wasn't use to seeing.

Townshend sighed and moved around the rusty cages and looked to see if there was a clue to his salvation or at least a clue on how to get the hell out of there. He stopped around the corner as everything shifted around him as things sped past him like in the dream, or whatever it had been. It stopped them making him dizzy with the sudden abrupt change. He discovered now he was at the steps, where he had met…..Walter. Walter sat on the steps playing with the doll that Henry had left there, feeling somewhat shy about the whole thing. Henry took a step closer as Walter raised his head as he ran a hand through the dolls hair.

"It's you." Walter mumbled lightly shaking his head and putting his attention back on the doll. Henry moved closer still figuring this Walter wasn't hostile and decided to step onto the steps and sit next to him. They sat in silence for awhile and the Henry reached his hand over placing a hand on the doll. Walter made a move to push it away but then looked up at him as they exchanged looks. "We are going to die here." Walter said very gloomily as the doll dropped from his fingers and he vanished into thin air. Henry sat his arms and legs going numb ._We are going to die? No that wasn't in the plan. _ Henry head snapped to the front as a leopard like growl echoed through the entire area. Dogs, one, two, five of them stalked the bottom of the steps. Henry made a step to go up but his hand touched something slimy and he knew he was cut off as he looked behind him to see twice as many dogs at the top of the steps. He was trapped, he was going to be killed. But what had Walter meant by, THEY, were going to die because he clearly wasn't here.

Henry discovered he was quite wrong when the dogs were scattered across the ground blood spluttering everywhere as a machine gun tore into them. Walking in from the shadows was Walter, Henry wasn't sure how much happier this moment could have made him as Walter took a few steps past him his hoisting his machine gun up and taking the dogs out at the top of the steps.

"Are you coming Receiver?" Walter asked nodding his head in the direction that headed up the steps. Henry stumbled to his feet for the third time following behind the man. They met many other monsters on the way but for the most part Walter didn't seem to have much of a problem.

"Why..are you…" Henry tried to ask the question that had been bothering him all this time.

"You mine to kill and mine only." Walter mumbled as he bent down for a moment to reload the large gun. Henry froze his mind splitting as he felt the urge to run and the urge to steal the gun away and beat the man with it. He saw Walter swivel his head looking at him through narrowed eyes. "That would ruin the sacraments " Henry knew which Walter he was dealing with now but still the idea of trying to get back didn't rest very well on his shoulders. He took a wary step back as Walter went back to adjusting his gun. When the man stood again he began walking and Henry rather reluctantly followed.

Henry began to wonder what the purpose of this level was. For him to die, that didn't sound fun. He pushed past Walter then deciding if he was suppose to die he'd liked to see the problem face on.

"Walk behind me." Walter said irritably. Henry just waved him off looking over his shoulder

"I am going to die anyway." Henry mumbled.

"Rei-Henry…"Walter stopped and Henry spun around, he had never heard that one before. Well he had never experienced the homicidal versions of Walter saying his real name. "Please." The look of concern crossed Henry's face as he saw the worry across Walters. He sighed and waited for Walter to pass him and he returned to walking behind him. What if what Walter had said was just his way of saying he cared? Could that be it? But that seemed like a weird way of saying, Hey I care. Especially after mentioning the sacraments again, before Henry could delve farther into his mind Walter's machine gun began spitting at bullets as ape men began dropping from the buildings. Henry tried to stay out of Walter's way but as he moved he was suddenly spun around and to his surprise Walter brought him into his chest his free arm wrapping around his waist tightly, as he used his other arm to shove the barrel of the machine gun into the stomach of a ape man that had been aiming to attack Henry. When the dust cleared Walter let go of Henry turning to continue his trek to god knows where.

"Thank you." Henry said softly; Walter stopped looking at him and he nodded lightly but didn't say anything. Henry found himself looking around wondering what was going on; he wasn't use to walking through the world's without having to fight something. Instead he had some giant…guard…dog?

He bumped into Walter's back as the man stopped abruptly. Henry tilted his head peeking around the large man and his mouth went dry. Standing in front of their path was little Walter. The kid must have followed him back through hand now he stood with a knife in one hand and the doll now covered in blood in the other.

"Let Mommy go." The little boy stomped his foot pointing the knife at the bigger man. Henry blinked realizing the boy was talking about him. Walter shifted looking at Henry with a raised eyebrow. Henry made a weak forced chuckle. Big Walter just shook his head raising the gun at the child."I mean it!" The boy screeched as he floated off the ground as dogs walked out from the shadows. Henry made a moved to back up but he jumped turning around as he went back to back with Walter as dogs came out from behind them from what seemed like thin air. _You've got to be kidding me._ Henry groaned pressing his back up even closer to Walters as the dogs sauntered closer."Mommy doesn't belong to you." Little Walter continued as the bullets flew right through him and his older self grunted with frustration. Walter dropped the gun as it sputtered and the last bullet didn't even fire. Henry figured this is what Walter had meant by they were both going to die. He really didn't want to but he couldn't imagine anything worse. But then this man he was now back to back with, this wasn't the real Walter, he wasn't sure about the younger version but he knew the real one wasn't here. He felt a hand grasp his and he looked down to see Walter's large hand holding his. He looked up as their gaze met.

"I told you I am the only one who can kill you." Walter mumbled as he drew his hand away and Henry felt weight in his hand, he brought his hand up seeing a medallion dangling from his fingers. He blinked and then he felt himself being shoved back."I want you to run." He heard the man whisper. Henry felt himself bite his lip shaking his head."Henry.." Henry felt the tears start falling as he nodded vigorously trying to bite back the emotions begging to tear him to shreds. He was given another shove and Henry tore away from the warmth of the man's large back as he leapt over the dogs running trying to force him not to look back as he gripped the medallion in his hands. He heard a terrible screech rip through the air and he clamped his hands over his ears as he found the steps and as he missed one he fell forward and he let out a scream as his eyes shut.

Henry's body hit the ground but didn't bounce of any steps, or even hit concrete; it felt more like, wood. His eyes opened as he found himself sprawled on his living room floor beside the couch. Had that been a dream? He sat up holding his head. He had gone through the hole though, he had escaped Little Walter. He blinked. He got to his feet moving for his bed room. He stopped midway a shiver crawling up his spine. His bedroom door was chained shut just like his apartment way back when. He turned looking around frantically all the doors, all of them were somehow tied down and he was trapped in his living room/Kitchen. He made a full circle as his senses began to shut down. Had he lost the level? Was he not supposed to run?

He stopped as his eyes fell on a bloody piece of paper shoved under his couch. He bent down picking it up turning it over.

_They're coming Henry_

"Who's coming?" Henry found himself saying out loud and as something slammed into one of the outside doors as if someone was running a battering ram. In fact he was convinced that's what it was as the wood and glass around the door began to splinter.

"Open the door!" A loud gruff voice yelled as the ram made another go at the door.

Henry felt his knees bending as he began to shake. What was going on? Why? He turned running for his bedroom door yanking on the chains frantically. But he could hear the ram making its way through and he turned around plastering his body against the chained door as if he could melt through as the ram made its last effort busting the wood. The ram was in fact a gun and the gun was attached to an arm and that arm was attached to someone who looked like they were determined to get in. Henry shook his head back and forth mumbling over and over, they couldn't take him now! He was so close! He looked down at the note that he still clutched in his hand He brought it up and began to yell.

"What do I do? Please you have to help me!" Henry was desperate and tears began to come to his eyes as he saw bloody writing appearing very slowly.

_Run you have to run Henry, If they take you away from here You can't save Walter_

"But how…the doors are chained…there's no way out!" Henry head jerked up as more men began to wrench themselves into the room. They were dressed in dark blue and if it wasn't for Henry's fractured mind he might have seen they were policemen but his mind warped them into hideous human forms much like the C section woman from the hospital world.

_I can only help you once Henry_

Henry blinked pressing closer to the door as the men got closer."Don't be alarmed we are here to help you." The men said but all Henry heard was garbles and growls as his hands flew up to protect himself. He fell back as one of the man's hands reached out for him. The chains vanished and he was now tumbling through a hole in the ground and soon he was flying through darkness as he legs and arms flailed in the air. He stopped falling then as he landed on a bed his body causing it to shake as he could hear running water. He was in prison world again. He looked around and found that he was In one of the cells. He got off the bed and went to the door wiggling the knob. Locked, He felt his hands wrap around the bars of metal shaking them as if they'd just magically pop off. He backed up shaking his head. He was trapped, he was trapped!

He screamed bloody murder collapsing to his knees. He just wanted to die, he just wanted to end all this. This was worse then what he had been forced to endure before. With feelings pulling him this way and that he didn't know what was real! Just for once he'd like something to be real! Solid, something he could hold onto! His eyes lifted to the door as he heard a sudden click as a key was slid into the hole. What now, a zombie guard? Another Killer Manic Little Mini Walter? Henry stood moving for the door not caring if someone slit his throat or ate his brain. He beat the door with his fist as he swung outward and he fell forward his fists landing blows on something that defiantly wasn't metal, it felt warm, maybe satiny. Henry's eyes moved up the blue material and his eyes grew wide as Walter Sullivan stared down at him. He back up into the cell but the man grabbed his wrists stopping him from moving. He tried to tear them away and move by before Walter was killed again for being near him. He didn't even care for his own life anymore he just care, about, Walter. He stopped trying to get away and he just stopped as tears poured down his face. He was expecting the blade, the gunshot, whatever any moment now but his wrists were released and arms flew around him as he was gripped into a strong hug.

Townshend was so confused he didn't understand, why was the level torturing him like this? He buried his head in the man's blood stained coat the tears still pouring down his face. His arms moved wrapping up around Walter's back as he cried, he had lost it, finally he just let go he didn't care anymore, he just didn't want to lose this feeling of being taken care of, warm, loved whether it was real or not. He felt a hand comb through his hair softly and he closed his eyes breathing in the scent of the man holding him. It was so different then what he thought it would be. It was, warm if warm had a smell, then he could smell peppermint the earth, everything just seemed to work together into this one intoxicating smell.

"I love you." Henry mumbled into the man's clothing. He felt himself shifted and he dreaded for one horrible second that he had said the wrong thing but he looked up into Walter's smiling face, he was smiling! He was really smiling. He felt Walter tilt his head with his hand and Henry's eyes fluttered close as he felt lips graze across his very lightly.

"You have one more level Henry." Walter whispered as he pressed his lips up to the shuddering brunette. He drew away slowly as he used a thumb to wipe away stray tears."One more…" The boy nodded his lip quivering. "I believe in you…" Walter said softly as the scene melted away and Henry's shoulders heaved as he opened his eyes and he was now standing in his bed room the hole gaping at him. He turned to see the door was back to normal he opened it peeking out. No chains, no men, no monsters, just his house. He closed the door turning toward the hole. One more Level. He had one more level. Just one more. He touched his lips with his hands as he bit back a sob. He had to do this.


	5. Death's Cold Grip

_**Bleed**_** belongs to Evanescence and no one else but I thought I needed a songfic chapter so let's hope this works **** Tell me if it does! You have to listen to the song as you read! Chapter 5 Milstone!**

H_ow can I pretend that I don't see,  
What you hide so carelessly?  
I saw her bleed,  
You heard me breathe.  
And I froze inside myself And turned away,  
I must be Dreaming.  
[dreaming] _

Henry picked up the pistol he had left in the room from before as he carefully checked the shell cartridge, it was half empty and he sighed shoving it in his pocket. He turned giving the room a once over deciding he might not to live to see it again. Then he turned to the hole and walked toward it placing his hand on the side of it leaning on it as he looked in. This was it, the final level. He didn't know what to expect, but he was ready, somehow he was ready. He stepped in as the darkness shut itself around him and he was taken up by the pulling feeling of the other world.

Townshend's eyes fluttered open as he found himself lying on a grimy floor sticky with; he didn't really want to think about it. He shifted to his feet discovering he was drenched in the red grime and he held back the urge to puke as the smell began to tear apart his nose. Where was he exactly? He turned a full semi circle before he realized he was on his balcony, his new house's balcony, but it was in major disrepair, as if it had been sitting there for hundrends of years and civil war had broken out and blood had been spilt everywhere. He looked over the forest that was now wrapped in fog thick enough to kill someone faster than cigarette smoke. Henry lips pierced together and he turned sliding open his balcony door which proceeded to fall of the hinges and crash to the ground causing the whole house to grind and groan. Henry was reluctant to make a move, he didn't know what to expect inside his own house. He peeked in his gun now raised and aimed into the dark living room.

_We all live, [why]  
We all die, [why]  
That does not begin to justify you.  
It's not what it seems,  
Not what you think,  
No, I must be dreaming  
It's only in my mind,  
Not real life,  
No, I must be dreaming!_

The sound of nails being dragged across wood assaulted his senses as he stepped in. His gun barrel flew to the side as a flash of black entered his peripheral vision. He blinked as it came from the other side giving his arms whiplash as he aimed the gun to his left. Then it floated out of the shadows. The long black hair, the pale cracked skin, the scantily dressed legs and chest, Cynthia's ghost was coming towards him at an alarming pace. The pain in his head began almost immediately as he backed up out of the house and back onto the balcony as she got closer. He couldn't shoot her, bullets had no affect… His one hand went to his pocket as he backed up more, he felt something there and he looked down at his pocket for a moment and pulled out five or more bullets, silver ones. Where had they come from? His mind flashed back to Walter's hugging him his hands resting around his waist. Had it been him? He quickly brought himself out of this thoughts as he clumsily jumbled the bullets out of his pistol and loaded them in his gun with his back pressed up against the rail he pulled the trigger just as Cynthia's hand swept forward missing his face by just a few centimeters, she convulsed and flew back and then landed on the ground her body shaking as she just vanished black some rising from the spot where she had fallen. _Well that had never happened before. _Henry blinked picking up the regular bullets shoving them in his pocket as he stepped over the smoking patch and into his house. Everything inside the house was coated in a mixture of dust, blood and rust and he couldn't help but grimace at the poor state everything was in. He should have been use to the strange effects of Silent Hill, but something about this sent tiny shivers through his fingers and toes.

_How though I've got to tell someone,  
Tell them what I know you've done.  
I fear you, but spoken fears can come true._

He looked toward the bed room and decided to check that _last_. He moved through the living room and past the kitchen going to the unvisited parts of his house. He had a study that was sort of like a library, he had a quest bathroom and bedroom, and then there was the attic that had two rooms. He looked automatically and groaned at the thought of having to go up there. He headed for the study and wiggled the knob, unlocked, he twisted it the kicking the door open letting It swing inward. He jumped back as heat smashed into his face and flames licked his hands almost causing him to drop his only life line. _Jasper._ Henry found himself tripping over his couch and he landed on it in a awkward position as the flaming ghost floated out of the study, Henry looked past him to see the entire room had gone up in flames. He aimed for the man his hands shaking from the numbing pain of the burns, he squeezed the trigger but his hand jerked and the bullet missed flying past Jasper's left ear. Henry swore cocking the gun and rolling of the couch as the ghost set fire to it. He scooted back as he leaned onto the wall the ghost making a direct turn towards him. He aimed again this time breathing out as he steadied his hands and pulled it again this time hitting Jasper between the eyes and he did just as Cynthia did but this time with a burst of flame with sparks landing on Henry's arms charring his sleeves. Henry brushed the flames off and stood. He looked at his hands still clenched around the gun and winced, it hurt pretty badly.

_We all live, [why]  
We all die, [why]  
That does not begin to justify you.  
It's not what it seems,  
Not what you think,  
No I must be dreaming!  
It's only in my mind,  
Not real life,  
No I must be dreaming!_

He shifted and decided next should be the bedroom, the guest one of course, his actual bedroom felt slightly unnerving at this point. He checked his rounds, _four more left. _He knew he wasn't totally prepared for anything, after all he'd been through he was far from prepared for anything right now. He opened the door to the guest bedroom and peeked in, the stench of burning flesh entered his nose and his eyes narrowed. Had he not killed Jasper? Or where there two of them, no that wasn't it, one more person had died a death that caused pain and the smell of human burns. Henry backed up as a flash of a shadow came into his vision, he nearly was knocked to his knees as Richard suddenly teleported to the side just barely missing clobbering him with the crow bar. He moved back putting his gun up and firing and he missed he knew as soon as he felt cold metal hit his back and he was sent flying forward into the counter knocking the wind out of him as he collapsed to the ground coughing and sputtering. He held his stomach as he pulled himself around into the kitchen. There went a rib, or two. He laid there for a moment but the pain in his head intensified as Richard floated around the corner his crowbar now dripping a thin sheen of blood, Henry's blood, and then the real pain. Henry gasped as his back muscles tightened as the blood began to flow. He didn't know how he got to his feet but he did and he tripped backwards as he fired the small arm the ghost flinched back as black smoke filtered from its shoulder like blood. Again? Henry continued stumbling back into the fire consumed study as Richard still sauntered forward. He aimed closing his eyes as he saw the crow bar swing, the shoot rang out and a few moments of just silence descended on the room.

Henry's left eye popped open and he almost cried out into joy as he saw the black patch of smoke rising just by his feet. However this wasn't the time to celebrate as he tried to feel his back, he could feel the blood soaking into his shirt and the pain was now numbing as he took baby steps out to his living room. He turned to go to the guest bathroom but then a voice shook his concentration and his eyes shifted to his bed room door.

_Henry! Henry Help me!_

It wasn't the voice he was expecting. It was much worse. It was Eileen. After all this time he should have been wise enough not to fall for this trick, Silent Hill played on people's emotions, but still that cy shook him to the core and he took a wary step forward to his bedroom door.

_Henry he's going to kill me!_

Henry broke into a steady fast walk as his hand rested on the door as he tried to prepare himself. What would be one the other side? What could be waiting for him behind this door? He couldn't guess, he couldn't prepare, and he just had to go. He pushed the door open and it swung in with a loud creak. The room was fairly well lit and Henry couldn't see anything unusual other than his bed was back but covered in the usual grime. He stepped in his defense dropping momentarily but was quickly and shakily thrown back up as the door slammed shut and chains came out in droves whipping past his feet like snakes as they took their position in front of the door.

_Henry you were to late_

Eileen wasn't something, in a million years that Henry could have gotten himself ready for. Her body didn't even look human like the others. It looked like a Frankenstein monster all stitched together in different places; some more like a jigsaw then full pieces, her hair fell wet across her face as her eyes looked blankly in front of her all white without any sign of a pupil. From every stitch, scar, and mangled piece of flesh blood poured down dripping out on everything she touched or floated over. Henry back found the door as he had been moving back the whole time. He raised the gun his whole body shaking as he tried to pull the trigger, but he couldn't! He couldn't do it!

_We all live, [why]  
We all die, [why]  
That does not begin to justify you.  
It's not what it seems,  
Not what you think,  
No I must be dreaming!  
It's only in my mind,  
Not real life!  
No I must be dreaming!_

She came closer and the pain in his head became excruciating as he sank against the door his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the pain in his chest and back began to shut his brain down. This was it he was really going to die this time. It was sad really, ironic, well that's up to the observer. But he thought maybe he deserved this fate, after all he was the source of everyone's despair, he couldn't save Eileen and he couldn't save, god he couldn't even save the man he loved. Now he was going to be killed by one of them. He closed his eyes a sense of peace settling over him as he waited for the final moment. He waited for his death thinking that he had done his best. His whole body let out a sigh as he began sifting through all he had been through, all the despair and horrible things he had seen. Somehow amongst all this he could remember some memories he didn't mind, like meeting Cynthia or traveling with Eileen or maybe just being alive before all the terror and dreams started. Then the images of the past couple of days began their journey through his mind. These images almost brought tears to his already bloodshot eyes. He would no longer have that warmth or even just a shy touch anymore; he would just float through darkness for the rest of his life. No! His eyes snapped open as the gun whipped up and he fired Eileen was thrown back on the bed as she disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Henry breathed out forcing himself to stand using the wall as support.

_Not what it seems,  
Not what you think,  
I must be dreaming..._

He groaned trying to walk forward but the pain was at its peak and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. He moved toward the bed as the chains rattled behind him and before he even reached the post his legs were thrown out from under him as the chains grabbed his ankles tugging him backward. Henry flipped onto his back in shock his shaky hands aiming for the links in front of his bound legs. He frantically emptied the rest of the round as he was tugged forward being pulled toward total darkness as the chains continued to cocoon him in black metal. He screamed out as his ankles were consumed by the darkness turning cold as if they were freezing just at the touch. He had been so close! He had thought he was finally getting brave, but he couldn't fight this! His hand scrambled for his pocket loading the gun again and he proceeded to causelessly empty more rounds on the unyielding chains. He felt himself tugged again and now his legs had lost all their feeling as they were yanked into the black void. He cried out turning around and digging his fingers into the wood scaring his nails and blood pooling under his calices.

"No please! I don't want to die!" Henry screamed tears pooling under his lids. He yelled pleaded and cried as he continued to be yanked back."Please! I can't die! I want to see Walter!" His rambles echoed off the walls and inside his head as it all just poured out."I love him! I don't want him left all alone in that horrible place!" Another yank, "I pity him! I feel sorry for him and sick that anyone could treat someone like that! I won't! I love him! Please!" Another yank as his shoulders and arms were the only thing still not consumed."Please, Please, Please, I love him!" He began sobbing as another tug took his shoulders. "Please" His hands released the wood as his scratches had made quite a mark. He closed his eyes as he choked on his last few tears. He continued to cry even as the chains grip loosened and soon fell away as his body was let go and the darkness receded into the cracks of the floor. "I need him…" He mumbled into the floor quietly.

He raised his head his chest heaving as the feeling in his legs and chest began to ease its way back. He didn't feel like moving, all his strength had been drained out of him and he felt like falling asleep forever. He rolled onto his back his whole body tensing as the pain throbbed at his nerve endings. He sighed as the tears dried on his face as he stared up into the ceiling the grimy rust looking friendly to him. The gun clunked out of his grip as he just laid there his eyes glazing over as his body lay in a strange angle. As his eyes closed he didn't feel the warm arms pick him up as his head lay against someone's shoulder. He wasn't hyper aware of anything as he was laid on a fluffy white sheet.

Henry barely noticed as his shirt was carefully being taken off and someone began taking care of his wounds. No one could heal the mental wounds that he had suffered but they could get rid of the physical ones. Henry was so weak and so far gone that as that person laid next to him he just simply turned over his arm cradling over their chest as he breathed out a rigid breath.

His mind wandered through Silent Hill as he was backed into walls, monsters terrorized his senses, he was set on fire, he was thrown into puts and spun around until he was nauseous, and everything felt so real at the edge of death Henry learned. Is this what people meant by seeing their life flash before their eyes? What a horrible life to see he thought. What a horrible way to remember everything before everything just went black. Henry took in a breath he could feel the slight grinding of pain in his chest but the scent of earth, warmth, peppermint filled his senses and he willed his eyes to open pulling him out of the darkness of his eye lids. He found himself curled up to something very warm, very comforting and perhaps even familiar. His hand was tangled with another pair of fingers and he raised his head from the skin that it rested on and his eyes travel up the lightly tan chest and chin and face until his brown eyes met green ones. He was going to say something but a very soft shush quieted him. He laid his head back down nuzzling himself back to his original position and breathing out trying to remember that this is what he had been fighting for all along. If this was a dream, if this was another delusion to keep him going, he was willing to stay there forever, until he finally just drifted off into nothing his heart at peace, he could die like this he supposed. Yes, that would be okay. He breathed out again as sleep over took him again and a hand smoothed light and careful circles into his back.


	6. Linen Sheets

**Well I think this story is coming to a close, or well in at least two chapters it will be, counting this one, maybe there will be a sequel? Walter's Point of View Story maybe, maybe a little Walter story? I guess we'll see, and thanks again for your wonderful reviews! I really do love them!**

**Dedicated to ILive4Irony417's grandma, God bless her.**

_Henry's fingers stretched out as his fist gathered up sheets of linen, the scent of clean cotton was slowly waking him from his stupor and he began to wonder how dead he actually was. That could be the only explanation for this wonderful sense of peace. Right? He had made it past the Level but it had killed him. He thought he had died, but then, why could he still hear his thoughts? Why could he still remember every burning detail? _

His eyes opened at their own lazy pace as they were buried deep in white sheets. He didn't dare move worried he'd jolt himself awake, that is if he was dreaming, but still the fear of constantly being in a dream had made him very careful about waking up. He finally flexed his hands and then his toes as they started waking up. He let out a small whimper as he shifted a elbow out from under him and pain carved itself into his back then his chest as if they were racing to see who could cause him the most pain.

"Don't move." A voice ordered him from above, or was that beside? He honestly didn't care as he kept his body stationary like the voice had told him to do. He felt hands wrap around him gently pulling him up and then flipping him over so lightly he thought maybe gravity didn't exist anymore. His eyes adjusted and a small relieved smile graced his face as blond hair and green eyes filled his vision. Walter was sitting on the bed his knees tucked under him trying to keep Henry from opening his wounds. He received a smile from the boys cracked dry lips and he smiled back but was still highly focused on the condition of his body.

"Am I dead?" Henry asked lightly as Walter's hands explored his body checking every possible place that could have taken damage. He saw the blonde pause and look at him the gaze they exchanged made it clear that something wasn't quite right."Walter?" Henry whimpered as a sore spot was hit and he bit back a gasp.

"No Henry you're not dead." Walter replied softly as he finished his examination. Henry nodded slowly as Walter moved off the bed going to a desk. Where was he? He tried to look around but his neck was in a stiff position and he was afraid to move it. He instead watched Walter, staring at him intensely. He was dressed in white button up shirt and loose black sweat pants; it was such a strange transition from his blue coat that Henry wasn't sure which he preferred. He could see the muscles shift in Walter's shoulders as they moved under the tight cotton shirt. He was fascinated as he watched the man putting away bandages and other medical items."I am not going to disappear no need to burn a hole in my back." The calm baritone voice said as Walter looked over his shoulder his eyes showing a childish laugh that didn't reach Walter's mouth. Henry's face flushed deep red as his eyes shifted away.

"Sorry" Henry mumbled as he wiggled down under the covers some more. He felt weight shift the bed and his chin was taken in-between to warm long fingers as his face was pulled to face the other man's.

"I was kidding Henry." Walter comforted as he kissed the boy's forehead. He could feel his breath flow over his neck as Townshend let out a sigh.

"Where am I?" Henry asked as the fingers fell away and his heart decided to start beating again.

"In-between the worlds" Walter replied lightly as he lay next to his wounded pet. He noticed Henry's blank stare and he knew what was coming. "I am still in 302 Henry; this is just another…me…" He gestured to himself oddly and just shrugged. He could see the worry creasing the boy's forehead into old man wrinkles. He sighed crossing his arms and looking at the ceiling."I don't know when this part of me manifested itself…maybe it was when you saved me in the water cell or even the first time we actually met and you took that doll from me." He paused sifting through his thoughts."The other me, the real killer, he's dangerous Henry, leave him in 302." Walter's eyes rolled looking to see how Henry was taking all this. His eyes displayed confusion and understanding all at the same time."That writing on the wall was the other Walter Henry, he was using you, and he was trying to get you to free him." The boy's old man wrinkles slowly disappeared as he nodded.

"Then were…you the one...-

"I was the one who was with you…who tried to keep you from going through that cursed hole, but I can't speak or stay long in that world, I don't have that kind of power." Walter said a few stray tears pooling under his eyes as he pulled Henry into him."I am sorry I couldn't do anything." Walter felt warm tears soaking into his shirt and he sighed resting his chin on Henry's head.

"I love you." Henry whispered tenderly. Walter nodded the feeling reaching Henry as he tried to wipe his tears from his face.

"I love you too." Walter admitted."At first..I thought…maybe it was the world's way of torturing me…but then…what you said in the other world version of your house." Henry lifted his head as Walter moved his chin and they looked at each other both understanding. After a few moments Walter shifted away getting up."You need to eat…I am sure you don't remember the last time you have eaten anything." Henry was about to move but before he could he was lifted and carried out a door and out of the bedroom he guessed. The layout was a lot like his house only more colorful and bright and he was sure there were endless rooms as they passed door after door until the hall broke into a large kitchen. He was placed on a stool as he leaned up on the counter his elbows keeping him steady.

"Walter?" Henry piped up as Walter rounded the counter going to the fridge and drawing out a carton of eggs and an armload of other things.

"Yes?" Walter asked as he placed the things out in a organized manor as he took real bacon slabs and put it on a cutting board.

"Um…what about the others?" If Walter was chained in 302, or the evil one, then the others were there too. Townshend hid his body's automatic flinch as Walter drew out a knife to cut the meat. It had made him jump only slightly but Walter had caught it.

"They are dead Henry…and sorry to scare you, I keep forgetting how much my other self terrified you." Walter spoke very softly as if he was talking to a skittish child his green eyes looking away from his work for only a moment to check on Henry.

"No no its okay I just…" Henry found himself trying to find an excuse but none came to him so he just quieted as Walter dropped bacon into a sizzling pan. He watched Walter's nibble fingers work with the other food, his medical training making itself very evident in everything he did. Was it wrong that Henry relished every movement Walter made and traced every step he took?"How does…this place exist?"

"Just like my other self I had the ability to make it and shape it to my own wills." Walter replied as he scooped bacon from the pan and placed it on a warming plate as he returned to cutting peppers for an omelet. He didn't even have to look up to know was slowly nodding in that awkward way of his. He wasn't talkative but Walter didn't mind considering he had never been one to speak much either.

Henry felt his stomach garble as the smell finally reached his nose and as a plate was slide in front of his face he hardly hesitated to pick up the fork and began gobbling down everything. The sides of his mouth stretched into a smile as the delicious taste of food brought his nearly dead taste buds back to life. "Is there anything you can't do?" Henry asked through a mouth full of eggs, peppers and onions.

"Hmm.." Walter went to sit next to him on another stool with his own plate."I can't swim…and…I can't grow anything..plants seem to hate me." Henry giggled and his hand clamped over his mouth as he blinked. Walter head tilted looking at him and then he burst into laughter as Henry blushed. Walter then picked up his fork and pried the hand away from the boy's mouth as he leaned in kissing him. The brunette shuttered as his body received the action faster than his brain did. Then the blonde pulled away gingerly, and returned to his plate of food.

This seemed almost too good. Henry eyes faded to his plate as his critical thoughts began to try and rationalize what was happening. He understood that he was live, the pain he felt when he moved the wrong way made that clear. Walter was next to him now eating steaming hot eggs and bacon, that was true, or he hoped to god it was, or he'd go hang himself right then and there. Then the last thought to cross his mind before his chin was pulled to the side and green eyes locked onto his brown ones was that he felt at peace, dead or alive. He was brought into another kiss and his eyes softened as he sighed. This went on back and forth until Walter go up taking the empty plate to the sink and letting them drop in. Henry didn't hear a sound and his eyes narrowed.

"Why wash them when…" Walter opened a cabinet to show new dishes had formed on the shelves. How had Walter known his concern that fast? Was he that easy to read? "Yes you're easy to read." Walter chimed in as Henry eyes grew wide. "Don't worry I can't read your mind or anything." Henry breathed a sigh of relief resting his chin on his hand as he stared at the man.

"….Is…there…anyone…else…-Henry paused thinking- here?" Walter seem to take awhile to answer but then he came back around and picked Henry up moving to the living room that was adjacent to the large kitchen. He placed the brunette on the couch and sat next to him propping his feet on the coffee table.

"Yes…" Walter finally said as he ran his fingers through his shoulder length blond hair. "But…they aren't friendly." He saw Henry's look of concern again and he sighed his hand moving to his chin rubbing the morning stubble."I can't keep all of Silent Hill out…at the edge of this world is a hairline crack that sometimes…opens." He seemed very careful about what he said and as Henry snuggled close he knew he had to elaborate some more."The crack opens to a door…" He paused hesitating."A door that has the number 302 across the top" He could feel the male beside him shiver and he gathered his arms around him. "It's okay though, nothing can get out without someone opening it. First." Walter comforted massaging one of Henry's small hands.

"I believe you." Henry nuzzled his face into Walter's shirt content with just sitting there for awhile. He pushed the door to the back of his mind and he closed his eyes as the lazy feeling of sleep began to dull his mind.

Walter laid Henry out across the couch when he fell asleep. He didn't want to leave him, but his nerves had been shaken up by Henry's question. He just had to check, to make sure, that nothing had happened. He made his way out of his house into a garden that was mostly full of wild flowers and flowering weeds, he passed by picking a dandelion twirling it in his fingers as he made his way past and deeper into the bright area until he reached a area that was white, as if someone had taken a chunk of the world and erased it living a giant white canvas. But the canvas was scarred as running up the middle of it was a black crack leaking black smoke and blood seeping onto the white and into the grass ahead of it. Walter warily tossed the dandelion near the crack and before it even landed it decayed and dropped like a dead weight into the crack. Walter's lips moved together as he stepped back. He didn't like this. Whenever he had checked the crack before the dandelion would just lay there and slowly decay and then sink into the white not to be seen. Now it was almost instant. Was it because he had brought Henry here? He had checked him, he wasn't tainted. _It's because he's connected to both you and your other half. _His mind told him as he turned to walk back. He hadn't told Henry that it hadn't always been him in his visions, he thought it would be better to leave that part out, but now he could see it could be dangerous to have the boy here, so close to, _him. _

Leaning on a tree with frustration he looked up at the cloudless sky and wondered if there was a safe place for them. Anywhere, the old idea of paradise flitted through his mind and he just shook his head mumbling to himself. There was no paradise. He continued his trek back and entered the house, Henry was still asleep and he smiled lightly. For now everything was alright and Walter could live with that even though it upset him that not everything was going to be perfect.

He sat on the couch being careful not to wake his sleeping beauty. He played with the brown locks of hair combing it with his fingers. How had he found such a rare thing as this? In his life of blood and death, he had found one person who loved him despite that. All along the way Henry had probably torn himself to shreds over it. Falling in love with a serial killer, HAH, what an absurd thought to anyone else but the two who shared the secret. What was it like to Walter? To feel this, warmth throughout his body, at first it had been foreign, bothersome really. He had thought it was just another way for the cult to drive him mad. Having to kill a sacrament he loved, the ultimate test! But then he had felt so conflicted he had split again, into this form, and had tied himself off from the other so he couldn't be forced to rejoin him in one body. Now he felt like he was putting his beloved in even more danger and he wasn't sure how he was suppose to reassure his mind that everything would be okay.

Townshend shifted and he mumbled Walter's name in his thoughtless sleep and Walter smile broke out clearing his thoughts. Why was he so worried? He controlled this world. Nothing could get through and nothing was going to ruin all he had worked for. He was with Henry and it was going to stay that way. The sense of peace settled over him but in the back of his mind he could feel unanswered questions nagging at him._ What if he finds out the others are alive? Walter, Walter, Walter, you're going to lose him if you aren't careful. _Why his brain couldn't just shut up and do what he asked it to. He laid his head back sighing as he closed his eyes. He would just ignore it for now there was no reason to try and answer those things now.

Henry shifted as his eyes opened an hour later. He discovered he had crawled his way into Walter's lap and as the man's chest rose and fell with sleep Henry just smiled thinking he didn't want to wake him. He moved himself carefully trying to stand, finding his legs weren't any more damaged then his arms. He walked around the couch looking around the place curious as to what such a beautiful house could contain. He wandered the hall and discovered a bathroom, a study, a library and a few rooms that contained boxes of medical supplies, food, and random books about human anatomy. He figured this wasn't that strange considering that Walter had become a doctor, whether he's reason to be was righteous or not. Henry wandered into one of the storage rooms and took out a book flipping it open. His eyes widened discovering it was not a book of medical history but a journal with beautiful cursive hand writing. He just could resist and sitting on one of the boxes he flipped to a random page wanting to read what the journal contained.

_July 5th_

_Henry is getting worse; the nightmares are even taking over his house. I am not sure how to handle it. The crack in my world seems to be getting larger and opening more frequently then it usually does, and this worries me. I have to get Henry out of that place, but he doesn't understand my silent warnings, he thinks he's dreaming. Which, I don't know which one of us is, I can't help but feel like I am being too protective of a sacrament, but he's not really that anymore. He's a lot more, and this too worries me. What am I going to do?_

Henry hadn't noticed the figure standing in the doorway till he looked up and Walter was now leaning on the frame shaking his head and smiling at him. Henry hid the journal blushing."Uh.."

"Its fine…I didn't exactly hide them." Walter replied stepping in and dumping a box full of journals onto the floor, all identical to the one Henry held behind his back."Want to read another?"

Henry nodded lightly his lips creasing as he looked around wondering which one to choose. Choices. .


	7. Before The Storm

**So let's take a step back in time for this chapter, I thought it be a good excuse for the journals: p REVEIW**

_June 9__th_

_It was as if things couldn't possibly get any more confusing, he was alive, or well sort of, he had a child version of him running around and now he had been defeated by Henry Townshend the Receiver of Wisdom. _

_**The Days Before Henry Began His re-journey through the worlds of Silent hill**_

Walter stood in the crummy apartment, run down by curses and constant mystical activity. He pivoted on a foot looking around his mouth twitching irritably. That brat had beaten him! He had killed the cult's god, his holy mother! 302 creaked and groaned as his anger began seeping into his steps. What was he to do now? He couldn't very well begin the sacraments again; he had no real physical body. Revenge on the Receiver sounded just as thrilling however. Walter shifted walking out of the apartment and through some of the worlds until he reached the prison world. He thought maybe it was time to see what Henry was doing. He stepped into the observation room peering into one of the many cell peep holes. Through this hole the world changed drastically and became almost like a looking glass as it sifted through worlds until it reached the real world and then zoomed in on a house set deep into a forest.

Sullivan couldn't help but smirk, the boy had gotten as far away from apartment 302 as he could possibly stand. He watched as he saw the nervous and edgy Henry unpacking items from dingy old cardboard boxes. A lead pipe and a pistol made its way out of the box just making it more evident Henry was still very wary of the world around him. This just made Walter's job even easier. He was about to send a nasty home welcoming present when he stopped as Henry drew out a doll from a box. His eyes narrowed as he hesitated watching and waiting. Henry drew out scraps of paper all organized and stabled and Walter recognized them as his little scribbles from when he was a child. Had he taken the notes that appeared on rocks and stones and written them down? _Looking for a way to defeat me no doubt_, this is what he tried to rationalize as he pulled up a chair deciding to hold back on corrupting the boys house until he was settled.

**Henry sighed lightly looking at all the items sitting around him. He could get rid of the pipe and pistol he supposed, but, he'd do that tomorrow, maybe. He looked at the scraps of paper and notes he had scribbled on the airplane ride and his lips creased as he picked them up. He stood over the candle he had bought earlier at some gas station and held them over it just above the flame. But he couldn't do it, for some reason he drew them away and looked at them reading through them again. The man was dead, so was the little boy that had written these. Henry placed the papers down on the nightstand he had unpacked setting the candle up on the table next to them. He bent down picking up the doll turning it over in his hands. He sighed and sat the doll on the papers brushing out its dress and black hair making it look a little well kept. Even though Walter was probably the most demented person ever born into the world, it wasn't his entire fault. Ever sense Henry had met little Walter he had felt like maybe Walter wasn't all evil, that moment with the doll too. One day he would get rid of these things, but until then he'd just let them haunt his sleep or something irrational like that. **

Why wasn't he burning those things? Why wasn't he throwing everything out into the muck and ruin of the forest? Walter didn't get it. He was "dead" in the general sense of the meaning and yet Henry didn't seem to have the ability to get rid of the things that held the essence of his corrupted soul. Did the boy feel pity? BAH. No one had ever felt pity for him except the Mother Reborn, and she was gone now as well. This was ridiculous why was he hesitating just to kill the boy? Walter shifted off the chair frustrated with himself. He still had that doll! He closed his eyes taking in a breathe clearing his head. He needed to just calm down, this was obviously affecting him. He went back to his original position. Henry had moved and he had to search around until he found him again now he was in the bathroom turning on the shower and checking all the water systems apparently.

**Henry sighed shifting as he inched the shirt over his head as the water began to get warm enough for him to get in. He really needed a warm shower, he couldn't remember the last time he had had a nice warm shower. He peeled the rest of his clothes off stepping in and just breathing a sigh of relief as all his muscles relaxed and he just closed his eyes as water poured down his face.**

Walter blinked his eyes shifting to the side as he tried to avoid watching. Not that he felt shame for what he was doing, but…No matter how much he hated the man, boy, whatever he was, he respected him in some aspects. He felt his eyes wander back and he watched fascinated with the tanned skin of a man who had been stuck in apartment longer than any human being should be. His brown hair now weighed down with water had turned black and laid across his face as he was innocently unaware of his quiet observer. The muscles in his back and arms were much more defined then Walter had thought they would be, being in those dingy clothes had made Henry appear wiry and almost zombie like. Walter was only faintly aware of how wrong this really was as he shifted placing an elbow on the wall holding his chin in his hand still watching finding himself intrigued.

**Henry stepped out of the shower after he felt like he could handle unpacking the rest of his things. He grabbed for a towel slinging it around his waist wandering back out among the boxes. Now where had he put his clothes again? He checked every box until he came to one filled with bags of clothes he had bought on his way there. He took out a regular old graphic tee that was colored darkly with blue dye, he took out grey sweat pants that looked comfy enough and after digging to the bottom he finally found some kind of boxers. He got dressed without much trouble and refolded the other clothes he had thrown out of the box. After awhile he managed to unpack a few essential items. When he moved around and began dragging furniture around that had been left in the house Walter began to figure this would be a good time to make an entrance. **

Before he could manage to move off the chair his eyes flashed as they caught sight of Henry tumbling over a box falling on him. His next few movements were like instant reflexes as his body shifted and he vanished without a word or a sound to announce his actions.

**Townshend groaned as the heavy box full of kitchen items weighed down on his back as he lay face down on the hard wood floor. That had hurt more than he had wished it had as he tried to shift he found the box was pressing on his nerves causing them to twinge at the slightest movement. He sighed laying his face on the floor again feeling the cold smooth wood pressing into his face. Now what was he suppose to do? Whatever he was going to do, probably should figure it out fast before the heavy box destroyed his nerve endings and left him paralyzed on the floor. He was about to move and try again when he found the pressure on his back lift off and he was left with a sense of floating as he stood not ready for the sudden disappearance of weight. Henry spun around bewildered and found the box sitting in the kitchen area opened and a spoon sitting on the counter. Every single piece of electrical current in his brain went off as a sense of alarm erupted from the brunette. **

What was that? Walter threw the chair at the observation room wall causing it to shatter with a satisfying crack. Why had he just helped him? He would have had the perfect opportunity to kill him. Walter shifted holding his fore head in-between his thumb and fore finger, pinching the ever creasing wrinkles. This was the stupidest thing he had ever done. He was cold calculating, a killer, and a person who shed blood half for the enjoyment because humans were pathetic and untrustworthy beings and he had just helped one! The one that had killed him once already! The chair reanimated as Walter made the motion to sit and stared at the hole again. This was completely unacceptable.

**Henry made a shaky step toward the kitchen picking up the spoon and observing it. It couldn't be. He had gotten away from 302. He had killed Walter, he had gotten away! He turned the spoon over in his hand and placed it back on the counter again. He looked at the box and his lips pierced as he closed it with his foot. He would unpack it later, after, he, cleared his head. He turned back around walking back to the odd number of boxes spread across the room and sighed trying to ignore the eerie feeling beginning to incase his body and mind as he went into defensive mode. Townshend eyed the metal pipe and handgun from where he was and he had to force himself to look away so that he didn't think about taking them up and truly dropping back into his insanity. His eyes shifted to the table with the doll and his eyes widened as he saw the wax of the candle had gotten low enough that it had now caught the dolls hair in its blazing flame. He made a mad scramble to the table grabbing the doll ignoring the searing heat as he nearly tripped going to the kitchen sink and twisting it on almost popping of the handle as he stuck the doll under the water. Now the drenched doll sat on the counter as Henry sat on a stool looking at it dejectedly. The thing looked awful now with only half a head of hair and water soaking into its plush like skin. He sighed stretching his elbows on the counter placing his head down still looking at the wet doll. Its head flopped to the side as the water seeped into its head and then the whole body flopped over a few moments after. Now what was he going to do with it?**

He saved it? This was beginning to drive Walter insane. He had literally torn Henry's life apart and yet, he had gone and done this! Walter rested his head on the wall tempted to bang it repeatedly as he felt the concrete grind into his forehead. This was completely irrational. Why was he having such a difficult time killing the man? The doll yes there was that, but that doll didn't matter that much! He had given it to the boy in the first place. He sighed closing his eyes. What had being killed done to his soul? The thought burned across his mind as it accord to him he no longer served the cult. Henry had killed his mother, well it wasn't his mother after all, and the cult had lied to him about it. He didn't have a real reason to kill Henry other than pure revenge for beating him at his own game. What if, he tested Henry instead? Walter lifted his head from the wall as the thought began to seep into his scheming head. He could always see just how much pity, if any, Henry had for him. If he had enough, perhaps Walter would leave him alone, if this was just some act of Stockholm syndrome then he would kill him without anymore of this silly hesitation.

**Henry after an hour of just staring at the doll blankly lifted his face off his folded arms and got off the stool, he took the doll and wrapped it in a towel and laid it carefully in an empty box placing the notes with it and he re sealed the box and took it and placed it in a closet without a second thought. He would deal with those things later. He turned back and observed the rest of the boxes, they could wait. He moved to the couch and laid down closing his eyes, what had happened earlier became a fleeting thought as he drifted off almost instantly.**

Sullivan's lips pulled into a smirk as the brunette fell asleep. Now what kind of nightmare to use to ruin such peaceful looking face? He leaned back on the chair as he stared at the ceiling. What could it be that could scare Henry enough? Well just moving that box seem too have riled him up, but he had ignored it as if it had never happened. Walter closed his eyes his fingers drumming on his leg as he pondered a few options through his head. Why not test his pity first? Yes, that sounded like an excellent idea.

**Henry found his eyes opening as a cold wave washed over his body, or it felt like it had been a wave but as he opened his eyes fully he found himself laying on the ground the feeling of concrete under him. He groaned his eyes closing again as he felt the nausea roll through him as he realized where he was. After awhile he gathered himself off the ground standing to his feet taking in the scenery of the all too familiar Water Prison world. He wandered around looking into cells that use to always be locked, the place was quiet, empty, no monsters, nothing at all but a quiet blood stained prison. He felt weird no having to beat something senseless with a pipe or shoot something with his gun. As he turned down a hall he froze as he heard a deep cry of pain whip past his ears from behind. He spun around and his entire body began to shake as he saw something he had hoped he would never have to really see again. Walter Sullivan, that madman, that killer was being beaten down by his own monsters. One of the ape men to be exact, as a golf club whipped through the air and made a solid crack into the man's middle back. Henry winced turning his head away. **

"**Receiver hel..p..me!" The cry caused Henry's eyes to snap back as green ones. Blood poured down the man's forehead as Henry found himself taking a step toward him. Why was he doing this? Walter was dead anyway. He had killed him! That man had killed 20 people and probably even more then that. Townshend was freaking going to save him like a knight on a white horse! As the man's cries filled his ears he found himself now running forward and using his shoulder to knock the ape man into the wall. He had moved before his mind could fully react. He had, risked his own well being, for this man! **

**Henry jolted awake and nearly flipped off the couch as he sat up. What the hell had that been? He rubbed his forehead in his hands and he couldn't believe that he had just done that! He knew he had had control over the dream, or at least his own body, he had just, rescued Walter! He groaned berating himself over and over for doing such a foolish thing when that MAN would have never done that for him, no he would have dissected him with a scalpel instead!**

Walter sat back folding his hands as he leaned forward. His body had not yet caught up with what he had just seen and his eyes were the only thing that displayed the complete shock that had spread over him. Had that really happened? He had planned on the boy running away, or even shooting him and the ape man, or something! But…that hadn't been the case at all. Walter had not planned on this outcome. He was thrown completely off guard. He stood as the image of Henry's house and the brunette disappeared. Walter would have to re-think this now; he wanted Henry to hate him. It should be the only logical emotion the boy should have against him. Not pity not…no! Walter ruffled his blonde hair in frustration as confusion began to mess up his usually organized thoughts. What if he could scare him enough? No that wasn't the plan, the plan was to draw the pity out of him. The very idea of someone having pity on him was hard for Walter to truly comprehend. He fumbled around the room and then he stopped finally running his hand over his chin. He was at a loss for words. The feeling of, he didn't know the feeling that was beginning to run through his veins. He didn't remember it from his childhood or even his adulthood. What was this? What was the word? He shifted his weight to one foot as a few words ran through his head. Then it came to him. Wonder. It was wonder, wonder for the unknown, wonder for just how deep this pity went, if it was just…pity.

Sullivan felt a burning in his head as a headache erupted from his mentality. He collapsed to his knees as he felt himself shaking. What..His hands rose as he looked at them. Where these his hands? They were unstained, clean, and completely different than he remembered. What an odd thing to worry about, his hands. A chuckled escaped the man's mouth as he thought about how absurd the whole thing was. He blinked, he had just, laughed? He unfocused his eyes from his odd hands and found he was no longer in the prison, in fact, he felt like he wasn't even in Silent Hill. He stood and found he was in a place, which was void of anything, even the darkness he was so use to. Everything was a startling white, empty space. He spun around bewildered at this unnatural feeling of not knowing exactly where he was. What else had changed?

As he turned again he jumped back as a mirror appeared, it had just, came up without even a warning. His shock increased as the image staring back at him, wasn't him, well it looked like him, but, how could it be? His eyes didn't have the wrinkles of stress like they had had sense he had began his path of darkness. His hair was no longer greased down by sweat and blood but instead was the color like it had been when he was a little kid. He was dressed in a white shirt and what he assumed were pants like Henry had been wearing. He found himself spinning trying to look at himself fully. What was this? This wasn't him. Where were the thoughts of terror? Or his blue coat even? He was no longer the Walter Sullivan he had know all his life. He was, something different, he could feel it from his toes to his long finger tips. He placed his hand on the mirror. He had split again. He soon came to realize this. Just like his child self, he had split. The reason had to have been Henry's act of pity on him. So, who was he exactly? He wasn't the man who had killed all those people. He felt like he was the man he should have been all along, before, everything bad had happened to him. Maybe if his parents would have raised him right, this is what he would have felt like. Maybe, as silly as it sounded, Henry and he would have been friends at some point. There were only two questions left to be answered

Where was he?

And where was his other half?

**I am sorry if this is a little confusing, but I wasn't sure how to explain how Walter had become the one now sitting with Henry in a storage room reading journals. So I just went with the flow of thoughts in my crazy mind and I got this. So to make things easy there are three Walters. Little Walter, Dark Walter, and Human Walter, you all know the first two, it's the new one that is now standing in the void and is with Henry. This is the Walter what would have existed if his life hadn't become a living nightmare. He was created when Dark Walter saw the one thing he thought no one would give him after he had fallen so far, Pity, and he was split and sent into two different directions with two different sub conscious feelings, light and Dark, Human and In-human. The one who loves Henry and the one who wants to kill him. I hope this helped a little! :D **


End file.
